


Sleepyhead

by BlixaLooksCarsick



Category: Megami Tensei, Persona 5, Shin Megami Tensei, persona - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mundane, sleepover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlixaLooksCarsick/pseuds/BlixaLooksCarsick
Summary: Just another day in the life. Nothing too out of the ordinary: merely two infatuated dorks spending the night.Either way - what bliss.





	Sleepyhead

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write some fluff, entirely unrelated to other more serious stories. Just some carefree thing for these two.
> 
> I was also listening to Washed Out and Passion Pit while writing. I'd like to think you can tell.

It was a truly cold December day. From dawn till afternoon, the sharp chill in the air made Tokyo a cold hell for its citizens. Commuters in the way to work or school all braced themselves tight beneath thick layers of clothing. Even the heating of the underground made little difference. The meteorological report called it an uncanny wind originating in the Northwest of the Pacific Ocean. Morning shows hosts jokingly translated this to the audience as Japan becoming Siberia for a couple of days, bemused that for all the cold, they wouldn’t get to see anything like the Aurora Borealis when it got dark. Minus 4 degrees Celsius – the lowest temperature Japan has seen in fifty years. 

Akira Kurusu was not required to attend class that day, as many professors were calling in sick. However, that did not mean he would get to sleep in, comfortably tucked under the covers with Morgana at his side. There was nothing better to endure the cold than a hot, strong drink. LeBlanc would surely see an uncommon clientele, and Sojiro would surely need an extra couple of hands. Taking extra care to not disturb Morgana’s feline beauty sleep, Akira went over to his improvised wardrobe and got dressed. His apron awaited, resting on the back of his chair. 

Somewhat hindered by the cold that crept its way into the café, he climbed down the stairs slowly. The creaking of the wood against his feet was something he missed dearly when he returned to Kawasaki; the same could be said for all the little imperfections that gave the place some of its personality. A year later, he moved back to Tokyo, and found his second home waiting as if he had never left at all. The café’s owner, Sojiro Sakura, would never admit it, but his daughter Futaba revealed under hushed whispers that he came up once every week to keep the place tidy. It was just like Boss, Akira thought to himself. 

Downstairs, the place was deserted. There was no light in the café but the greyish blue morning haze coming in from blinded windows. Even so, the colours of the Sayuri hanging by the entrance could well illuminate the place on their own. It was six o clock and Sojiro would not come to the café for another half an hour. Akira thought it best to pass the broom about the place beforehand. He put on his glasses, which he had left on the counter the night before, and set out to start his day. True enough, Sojiro entered his café at half past six, followed by Futaba who almost always had breakfast at the counter. 

At first sight, it seemed like the night had been unkind to Futaba. Her orange-dyed hair was near as much of a mess as Akira’s own, and weariness had rendered her words a barely intelligible mumble. After wolfing down her eggs with a side of curry, she confessed to playing video games well into the black side of morning. Akira chuckled sympathetically, having himself needed to kick the habit a few times before. Sojiro barely seemed willing to reprimand her hubris; he was already quite pleased that she would be so eager to attend school despite the cold. Half an hour later, Futaba was well on her way and LeBlanc was ready to service the first customers of the day.

The Yongen-jaya early risers were ever the reliable customers. They were people from the neighbourhood, and Akira had grown quite acquainted with them. As expected, today they would appreciate a cup of coffee with particular glee. The other set of regulars usually dropped by an hour later: Akira’s friends. Today, however, only Morgana would be visiting at this hour, hopping down the stairs with a few yawns still in his breath. If only for a moment, it seemed the unlikely would happen – that the clientele would suffer a drop because of the cold. That notion was utterly dispelled come noon, as the customers started pouring in. 

Word of mouth occasionally made a difference for small businesses like LeBlanc. Good coffee and good food made for a solid base to keep the place afloat, but it was still a puny influx next to the big coffee chains, usually found in more commercial districts. There was no use in wondering if somebody had vigorously praised LeBlanc’s coffee out in the open that morning. The only thing that mattered was that all these plenty new faces walking through the door wanted service, and it was Akira’s duty to assist Boss like never before. Having worked at a Beef Bowl Shop during peak hours, he thought the task would easily fit within his experience and capabilities in terms of meeting a demand. One hour later, he found he had terribly underestimated the collective craving for a hot beverage during a cold day. This river of customers ran on well into the afternoon. Akira was quite tired and there was still much of the day to come. That’s when the bell on the door rang alive, and one special customer walked in. 

The funny thing about this customer was that she was not allowed to be one. Though she always insisted otherwise, she was not allowed to pay for her drink or food. Though this courtesy was extended to the rest of the Phantom Thieves, Boss was sure to make a gesture for her, and her alone. No matter what, she would always have a seat at LeBlanc, and Akira would always be the one to brew her cup; he knew how she liked it. 

“Afternoon, Miss Niijima.” Sojiro greeted while Akira dealt with the dishes. “Mocha Matari coming, and… hoo boy. Make sure to make it strong, Akira. This young lady brought homework along.”

“Coming right up!” Akira declared as he deftly set the freshly washed plates on a rack by the sink. He turned around to greet his girlfriend only to find she acted ahead of him, leaning forward and placing a peck of a kiss on his lips. “Well hello, Makoto. Nice to see some of you beneath all of… um, that.” He suppressed a grin at seeing her, wrapped in a thick coat, mittens, two scarves and one knit hat that barely afforded her eyes any sight. He could tease her about her decision to grow her hair being a bit late, but just as Sojiro observed, her bag was filled with books and folders. Teasing was for another time. 

“It’s barely helping out there, trust me.” Makoto sighed. “Hey, is that booth taken?” 

“Not at all. Claim if before someone else does.” Akira replied while he started making her coffee.

“Oh, right. Lots of people here today! Wait, wouldn’t that be a problem? I can stay at the counter, no problem.”

“Hush now, young lady. You go sit at the booth. Focus on your work.” Sojiro said with a gentle though definite tone.

“Thank you so much, Boss.” 

“Plus, we wouldn’t want this guy to distract you all day.” Boss nodded at Akira.

“That’s… very true.” Makoto smiled. 

“On you go, then.”

Akira did not delay with her coffee. In fact, her presence did away with the tired spell he had amassed that day. The customers only kept coming, especially after sunset when the cold inspired a desire to be somewhere cosy and warm; in the lips of many there was now a word for one such place: LeBlanc. Akira and Sojiro kept up audaciously, even affording a brief chat every now and then with a new customer. Throughout it all, the young man showed this line of work was his true calling. He basked in it, but more often than not, he would steal a glance at his girlfriend sitting in the booth closest to the stairs, surrounded on all sides by towers of books about criminal law. Eyes and pen on her notebook, she looked like a professional in the making. Akira felt his chest swelling with pride.

But then he also noticed something else. Makoto started nodding off. 

The clock chimed seven in the evening. The customer flow started to ease down, and soon there were only four customers in the café at the end of such a profitable day. By then, it was quite obvious that Makoto was struggling with staying awake even after two strong cups of coffee. Within minutes, she was asleep, head atop her palm. 

“Hey, Boss…” Akira spoke, rather unsure of how to phrase his thoughts.

“Yeah?” 

“I… be right back. Won’t take long.” Akira removed his apron and approached the booth. He tried shaking Makoto’s shoulder to wake her up, but she was too deep in her slumber. He noticed she barely took a sip from her cup, and it had long gone cold. Trying not to dwell on how peaceful she looked as she slept, he carried her out of the booth and up the stairs to his room. He laid her on his bed, as gently as he could and removed her shoes. Before coming back down, he put her jacket and his covers on her to keep warm.

Boss’ expression was undecipherable back downstairs. 

“Sorry, I had to.” Akira said somewhat bashfully.

“Hey, no judgement. Just don’t do anything you’d hate yourself for.”

“Never.”

“Also, maybe let her sister know.”

“I’m on it.” Akira pulled out his cell phone and started choosing his words very carefully. Sae Niijima and he had developed a mutual respect and trust. But she was still Makoto’s older sister, and on her own, a fearsome woman with ample room for worry. 

Good evening. This is Akira. Makoto came by a few hours ago to study. She fell asleep a bit ago. May spend the night if it becomes too late for public transportation. Will tell her to get in touch when she wakes up.

Following a deep, anxious breath, he sent the message and quickly put his cell phone back in his pocket. He expected a reply to come soon after, but it never did – not even at ten o clock, when the café was closed and the streets outside were an unwelcoming place to roam. 

Makoto was still fast asleep in his bed. Morgana was curled up into a ball at her feet. Akira fetched two of his thickest jackets and a blanket, and made his bedding in the couch. Although the cold did not bother him, he still could not fall asleep. The minutes passed by slowly. He plugged in his earphones and tried lulling himself to sleep with dream pop and slow German jazz, to no avail. One hour later, he gave up and tried reading terrible horror stories from the internet in his cell phone. Nothing seemed to help. 

A tired groan snatched his attention. 

“What…?” Makoto finally awoke. “Akira?”

“Sleeping beauty.” He responded.

“Where am I? What?” In the darkness of the room, he could not see her expression, but her sudden silence revealed that she was just realising where she was. “U-uh. Do correct me if I’m wrong, but… am I… in your bed?” 

“Yup.”

Although he did not suffer from synaesthesia, Akira could still hear her blushing.

“Uurrrrggghhh, why…” She whimpered in embarrassment. 

“You fell asleep downstairs. I couldn’t just wake you up and let you be on your way like that. I did message your sister, though. At least to let her know you were alright.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “But I should be the one sleeping in the couch. This is your bed, Akira.”

“Nonsense. I’m very comfortable here.” 

“I must insist.”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“If you say so…” She sounded doubtful. “Good night, Akira.”

“Good night, Makoto.” He fell silent. “By the way, I really liked seeing you today.”

“I love you.” She said.

“I love you too.”

Akira finally managed to fall asleep a few minutes later, dreaming of nothing at all. Despite his best efforts, the cold that crept inside in the morning was making a vengeful comeback, and his jackets and blanket were not much use. Soon after, he felt something on his shoulder. Makoto was kneeling in front of the couch. 

“Makoto?”

“Akira. It’s freezing. You’re going to catch a cold. I can’t let that happen, especially if it’s because of a kind gesture you did for me. Please, come to your bed.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, Makoto.” He said, half asleep.

“No, I’m not. What I’m saying is… Please don’t make me say it.” 

“Okay. Let’s go.” There would always be time for teasing, preferably during warmer hours. Akira clumsily gathered his jackets and his blanket and joined Makoto in his bed. Even now, he took care to keep his distance so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. He expected her to put up some kind of barrier, but she did no such thing. She appeared content with the distance they tacitly agreed upon. Everything she was doing was so much like her. Akira smiled to himself at the thought.

Before he fell back asleep, he felt her hand grasping his. Then the world blurred whole, shapeless until the following morning. 

Akira woke up with heavy eyelids. In matter of seconds, he recalled what happened the day before, the night before. It turned out an extraordinary day, for many reasons. Never before had he seen so many customers in LeBlanc, and his girlfriend spent the night - which ever made his day. It was at this final thought that he finally realised the position he was in, and something instantly stirred and rose: it was the blush in his cheeks at seeing his arm around Makoto’s waist and how her back had found its place in close contact with Akira’s chest. Her fingers were still entwined with his. Her hips fit warm against his thighs. The back of her head brushed his chin and lips; he could smell the scent of her hair. He also noticed he had neglected to remove her hairband, and he briefly berated himself for it. Morgana slept at their feet. 

Makoto breathed easy in her sleep, her body rising and descending slowly. The scene was a delicate arrangement which pended from her peaceful slumber, and Akira did not dare disturb it. All he wanted to do was to stay like this as long as possible. Even if it just a couple of minutes more…

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still looking to write a couple more stories for the remaining Thieves; that is Morgana, Futaba and Haru.
> 
> That said, something big is coming... the Crimson Masquerade.
> 
> Edit: Went back to this story to make a few minor changes since it clashed a bit with the continuity I'm trying to build.


End file.
